Letting Go
by D. Kennedy
Summary: After Finn's death, Rachel reaches out to the only one who can help her through what she is feeling.


**Author's Note:**

This is something that has been tweeking my mind for a while. I felt I needed to write this out. It is a little fluffy and a little angsty. I just, I felt there needed to be more of a push at getting over finn.

**Disclaimer:**

I do not own Glee.

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**Letting Go**

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No one ever said New York could be this quiet. Sure, the shouting from the streets bellow still remained a constant soundtrack. The thud of water drops hitting the sink in the kitchen kept an even tempo while the wind chimes added a backing harmony, but Rachel Berry heard nothing but the blood rushing past her ears. For her, this was a deafening silence.

It took all of her to remain rooted in the entrance of the empty apartment instead of running out the door. The air in her loft was stifling, smothering the deep breaths she brought into her lungs. Despite the high ceilings, Rachel felt cramped into a shoebox, wishing for an escape. And the sun. Oh, the once glorious sun was more of a blinding curse than a beacon of hope. This was it. She was alone now.

Her roommates, Kurt Hummel and Santana Lopez, just left for the airport. The funeral was this weekend, along with the memorial. They begged Rachel to join, but she remained stoic in her catatonic state. Dead and gone, that's what Finn was. And she wasn't. She was alone now.

Slowly, she moved across the loft, her fingers running along the dining table, feeling the wood grain bump under her nails. The glossy surface humming at the movement. There was nothing left for her in Lima. Not now. And, as sickening as it sounded, not even before his death.

Rachel built a life in her mind, one that involved Broadway, Tony's and Finn. She loved him, or so she told herself. She must have loved him if she imagined leaving New York in the end of her story. She must have loved him if she planned to return to him, and Lima. It was all planned and she was happy with that plan, wasn't she? Then why did she feel like this.

Collapsing, Rachel brought her knees up to her chest, curling on the end of the love seat. Kurt begged her to reconsider, to come back to Lima and say her goodbyes, but she couldn't. Not when she felt this guilty. Not when looking at Finn's family brought more of these feelings. She was a monster. At least, she felt like one.

With a shaky hand, she picked up the phone from the end table. Her thumb ran over the buttons as she considered calling Kurt and explaining. But he would not understand. Neither would Santana, despite how well versed the Latina was with evil. No one could really understand this. No one ever did. Her ambition was a foreign concept to so many. So many except _him._

What happened next could only be described as automatic. It was automatic, as if her body was acting without mind. It was as if her heart was letting her reach out to the one person who ever really understood fully. Her other half. _Her soul mate._ The blood pounded in her veins again, dulling the sound of each ring until finally there was a soft click.

"Rach," his voice was velvet and smooth. Sugary and comforting. Warm and laced with everything she needed. With a _woosh _she was light headed. Emotion pulling her under.

"Jesse," she whispered, tears thickening her words, strangling her throat. "I didn't know who else to call."

"I know." He always would and she knew that. Jesse St James was and would be the only one to ever fully know.

"It's just that," with a shuddering breath she continued, "I can't believe he is gone."

"It was very sudden." He agreed.

"There was a plan, Jesse," she rambled, unable to add coherency and detail, "but now it's broken. The plan, it's broken and I don't know how to fix it."

"Rach," he stopped her rant short, his voice stern but still soft with compassion, "Do you really want to fix it?"

"I don't know," But she did. Jesse knew she did. He was prompting her in a direction she was scared to voice, and Rachel knew that Jesse was aware of everything.

"Plans are ever concrete when it comes to life," he started but Rachel cut him off abruptly.

"I know that," she said sharply, getting irritated but, after releasing a calming breath, it dissipated, "now. I know that, now, but why do I feel like this?"

"Because letting go can be hard," His voice turned tender, letting his words morph into the tone that was reserved for her and her alone. His comfort, god how well it always worked. It made her feel even guiltier.

"I-I don't mean upset, Jesse." Finally, she let it go. Finally, Jesse made her voice her real emotions instead of the show face. He always did. It's why she pushed him so far away in the first place. It's why she let herself believe that he wasn't her everything.

"It's ok, Rachel," and for the first time, Rachel actually believed that statement. "It is ok to feel relieved."

"Is it?" she snapped, hysteria filling her present mind as the emotion she kept buried beneath layers of flawless acting rose to the surface. "Is it really ok to feel relieved that someone I loved is dead?"

"As I said before, Rach, plans aren't concrete, but Broadway was always a concrete for you, for us." He said with certainty. "And that's a gigantic block. You can't just fit anyone into it, even someone as large as Finn."

"I got cast as Fanny Bryce," she said delicately, "how could I let go of that?"

"You can't," the smile he wore was present in his words, "not now. Not ever."

"I feel heartless for saying and feeling any of this," she admitted even more timidly than before. "I can hardly even look at Kurt."

"You aren't heartless," he said with a chuckle, "if you were heartless it wouldn't be bothering you to have these feelings. You are upset he is gone, but you are also relieved you can live your life independently, without a set course of action. There is nothing wrong with wanting life to unfold naturally."

"How do you always do that?" She asked incredulously. No matter how many people told her words of comfort, she never really believed it. Not until now that is. Not until the lyrics which Jesse weaved filled her with a hope of tomorrow.

"Because, Rach," he said tenderly, "in the end it will always be you and me.

"I know." This was truer than anything she ever knew. It was always her and Jesse and Broadway, no matter how much she fought against it. She was closer to that now, more than ever, and she wouldn't let that slip through her fingers, not now. Because, while she was willing to let go of the dream of Lima and Finn Hudson, letting go of Jesse St James would never be an inevitability.

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_**Please review!**_


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